CHAPTER XXIII. _Pawnee Dance.—Delaware Visiters._ In the evening it was determined, to bring the Delawares and the Pawnees together as friends, for as yet they had held no intercourse. A large fire was accordingly built before the out-houses in which the Pawnees had taken up their quarters, and the wild troop sallied forth, prepared to commence one of their national dances, round the flame. A group of eight or ten savage looking fellows, seated themselves a little distance off, furnished with a drum and rattle. They commenced a song, accompanied by their rude instruments. For a time there was no movement among the Pawnees, who stood huddled in a large, condensed crowd. Suddenly one of them, a tall muscular savage, sprang into the middle of the circle, and gazed around with a hurried air, then with a loud yell he commenced his dance. He jumped slowly round the fire, with a kind of zig-zag step: at every leap uttering a deep guttural “Ugh!” occasionally accompanied with a rattling sound, from the very bottom of his lungs. His comrades looked on silently, but with intense interest. They were a savage group; face and body begrimed with paint; their fierce features reflecting the flame, their teeth bared, and every brow knotted into a frown. Head rose behind head, and gleaming eyes were seen peering through the living mass, until those farthest off were hid by the darkness. When the first warrior had made two or three circles about the fire, a second left the crowd and sprang forward in the dance; a third followed, and a fourth, until about twenty were flitting swiftly round, and joining in the song. Occasionally they stopped short in their course, and uttered a loud shrill yell, which was taken up by the whole surrounding horde, until the very trees echoed to the sound. At one moment they moved swiftly forward, and at another their steps were slow and wearied. As we watched their fierce, earnest faces, the forms of some wrapped in shaggy robes, the painted bodies of others, writhing in the dance, and then turned to the silent, and equally savage group of lookers on, it required no great stretch of the imagination, to fancy them a host of evil spirits, busied in fiendish revel. While they were thus engaged, the crowd separated and revealed a Delaware watching their movements. Behind him were about twenty more of the same tribe. No sooner had the Pawnees caught sight of them, than they retired. Old prejudices could not be rooted out at once, and though the dancers remained at their employment, the rest of the tribe drew off in a sullen and haughty group, and stood watching the countenances of their _quondam_ enemies.